


Abdicating Responsibility

by weakinteraction



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Roleplaying as each other, Throne Sex, Writing on Skin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-22 23:56:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14319885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/pseuds/weakinteraction
Summary: Padmé and Sabé sneak into the throne room the night before Padmé's abdication ceremony.





	Abdicating Responsibility

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kimaracretak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/gifts).



The two handmaidens walked with purpose through the palace porticos, the moonlight making the pale blue of the Robes of Renewal seem to gleam. They stepped in and out of the shadows, their footsteps echoing from the high ceiling. Every so often, they encountered a guard, dressed in full ceremonial uniform, who would invariably bow to them and allow them to continue on their way.

No one would challenge the outgoing queen's personal retinue, on the eve of Abdication Day.

Once they were in the throne room, Padmé threw back her hood and looked across at Sabé with a wide grin. "We had to do it, one last time," Padmé said. And that was when, finally, it really hit her: after tomorrow, everything would change.

Other people had the chance to enjoy their twenty-first birthday. But for the Monarch of Naboo, it was a day of high ceremony, as they, having reached the traditional age of majority, became too old to be allowed to rule. And so Padmé had been determined to enjoy the night before instead. Sabé had needed little in the way of persuasion to join her on one last queen-in-disguise excursion.

Sabé removed her own hood. "You know, it doesn't have to be the last time," she said.

That was true enough: Sabé had decided to stay in her service for the time being, as had all the others. As a former monarch, Padmé would remain entitled to protection for the rest of her life, though not necessarily from her decoys as time went on.

Padmé put her hand over Sabé's, remembering what she had said about how she never wanted them to part. "Well, the last time when I'm queen, then," she said softly.

Sabé smiled, then laughed. "I wasn't being sappy! Well, not that much. I was thinking ... tomorrow, I could be you, perform the abdication rites. I don't think the constitution has anything to say about what happens if someone who was never the monarch abdicates in their place. Then you could carry on indefinitely!"

"Sabé ..."

"There are plenty of people who wouldn't mind in the slightest," Sabé said, mischief dancing in her eyes.

"The constitution of Naboo is older than the Republic itself," Padmé said seriously.

Naboo prided itself on being the only planet in the known galaxy run as a juvenocracy. Across the galaxy, young people were put to work: if they were lucky, they might be given an education along the way; if they were unlucky, they were kept as slaves. Padmé shuddered slightly as she recalled what she had seen on Tatooine. At least Anakin had managed to escape, joining the Jedi Order instead. But even the great Jedi saw their younglings and padawans as raw material to be moulded into the desired shape. It was only on Naboo, so far as anyone knew, that youth were trusted to rule, their creativity and idealism harnessed to the great task of guiding the ship of state. Allied to the wisdom of their advisors, many of them themselves former holders of the royal titles, the system had been stable for millennia.

"To tear it up on the back of a wave of popular sentiment -- however flattering that popular sentiment might be," she added, seeing the objection forming in Sabé's mind before she could voice it, "would be foolish. Besides, Tireze will be a perfectly good king."

"Well," Sabé said, "I suppose he might. If by 'perfectly good' you mean 'barely adequate'."

"Sabé!"

"Well, did you vote for him?" she asked pointedly. "I certainly didn't!"

"Traditionally, the outgoing monarch does not vote," Padmé said.

"Well, that proves my point," Sabé said. "You didn't vote for him. It would have been different before they extended the franchise."

For the last several centuries, the new monarch had been chosen by a properly democratic vote amongst all the youth of the planet. Before that time, the Electors of Naboo had been the scions of the noble families, choosing someone from within their own number. The list of Padmé's predecessors was still composed mostly of members of those families, as it was they who tended to have the resources required for an election campaign. But Tireze had been particularly forward in positioning himself as Padmé's natural successor, beginning low-key campaigning long before the traditional cut-off date of the monarch's twentieth birthday. Sabé wasn't wrong -- his brand of populism would never have worked on the Electors of old in the same way as it had on the electorate -- but at least Padmé's own popularity meant that he had to at least pretend to be interested in preserving her legacy.

"You talk like an elder, clamouring for the return of the good old days," Padmé said. "When everything was better than it could possibly be today."

"If anyone here is going to seem like an elder," Sabé said, "I think it's going to be you." She snorted. "Already planning to put yourself forward for the Galactic Senate, as though you're a fiftysomething."

"It is only a _little_ irregular," Padmé said. "But I think it would be best for everyone if I were away from King Tireze's court, in the early years at least." The Senate seat, still officially vacant since Palpatine had become Supreme Chancellor and risen above the representation of any one particular planet, was within the monarch's gift. Padmé had appointed temporary representation but deliberately left it open for the long term. She very much doubted that Tireze would do anything other than wholeheartedly welcome the idea of her being far away, and his being able to rule without her shadow hanging over him.

"Well, if you won't say that you're the greatest queen Naboo has had in the last five centuries, I will," Sabé said.

"You mustn't--"

Sabé counted off on the fingers of her gloved hand. "One: led the resistance to the Trade Federation's illegal invasion of Naboo. Which leads directly into two: forged a new alliance with the Gungans after centuries of distrust and suspicion, and three: helped ensure the election of the first ever Supreme Chancellor from Naboo."

"There were many others--"

But Sabé hadn't finished. "Four: oversaw a reconstruction project that went far beyond simply repairing the damage; everyone agrees that Theed is more beautiful than ever before, and the outlying regions are enjoying unprecedented prosperity, especially those where trade with the Gungans is taking off. Five: more than two dozen other worlds have opened embassies here during your reign ... And now I've run out of fingers, but I'm sure you take my point."

"Your naked partisanship is most unbecoming," Padmé scolded.

"Oh, I rather thought you liked my _naked_ 'partisanship'."

"Clothed as well," Padmé said with a smile. She caught Sabé's eyes, and despite how familiar they were with each other -- as queen and handmaiden, protectee and decoy, friends and lovers -- she felt the same electric charge between them that she felt every time they flirted, every time seeming to her as though it was the very first.

"You know, there is something _else_ we could do for the last time," said Sabé playfully, sitting back on the throne as though for all the world it was just a particularly large chair, not a sacred connection to Naboo's deep past.

Padmé was genuinely shocked at her lover's boldness. "Here?"

Sabé's voice took on the imperious tone she used when impersonating Padmé. "Are you questioning the wishes of your queen, handmaiden?"

Padmé looked down at the floor, her arousal soaring as she slipped into role. "Of course not, your majesty."

"Very good," Sabé said. "You may approach the throne." As Padmé reached its base, Sabé said, "Kneel."

"Yes, your majesty." Padmé could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she sank to her knees.

"Remove your robes." Padmé pulled the main part of the robes off over her head in one smooth motion, then unbound her breasts. She began to tug at the fingers of one glove, but Sabé said, "Hmm, no, stop there."

"Yes, your majesty."

Sabé reached down and put her hand on Padmé's breast, the coolness of the glove against the warmth of her skin making Padmé gasp. "Such perfect breasts you have," Sabé said.

"Thank you, your majesty."

"I could just sit here and stare at them all night," Sabé said. It seemed to Padmé that with her hand where it was, Sabé was doing rather more than just looking, but she knew better than to contradict her. "Would you like that, handmaiden?"

"Whatever pleases you, your majesty."

" _You_ please me," Sabé said. "You please me very much indeed. So very eager ..."

Suddenly, Sabé's fingers slid together, pinching Padmé's nipple sharply and tugging it for a moment before releasing it. Padmé bit her lip to avoid whimpering. Looking up, she saw that Sabé had adopted a formal posture on the throne.

"Who does the queen serve?" Sabé asked when she met Padmé's gaze.

"The people of Naboo," Padmé responded, echoing the words of the coronation ceremony by rote. Right now, though, there was only one of her subjects she was interested in serving. It was typical of Sabé's deft touch to be able to manage to remind her of her real role and still end up making her feel even more submissive. She felt as though she was hovering between Queen Amidala and Padmé the handmaiden, transcending the artificial separation between the two in the fulfilment of her desire to be commanded, controlled, conquered.

Sabé must have seen that she was beginning to slip away. "And who then serves the queen?" she asked.

"Her handmaidens," Padmé said.

"Then serve your queen, handmaiden," Sabé said. Padmé looked up to see that she was now leaning back on the throne and had hitched her robes up around her waist. She leaned in closer, but obviously not fast enough for Sabé's liking -- she felt Sabé's hands tangling in her hair, pulling her towards the thin layer of fabric that covered her pussy. Even through it, the scent of Sabé's arousal was powerful.

Padmé pushed her tongue into the fabric firmly, and was gratified by Sabé's moan in response. But again her lover became impatient; the pressure on Padmé's head lessened as she removed a hand and used it to pull her underwear to one side, so that suddenly, gloriously, Padmé was licking directly at Sabé's folds. Sabé's other hand returned to Padmé's head, pulling her in closer until her tongue was fucking Sabé directly, tasting the muskiness of her.

"Very good, handmaiden," Sabé said. "Very good indeed. You have a most uniquely talented tongue."

The praise spurred Padmé on to probe even deeper into Sabé's pussy, turning her head slightly as she did so. Sab´ responded involuntarily, her juices gushing suddenly. "Very talented indeed!" Sabé said with a laugh. "You're making me so wet. But I bet you're just as wet as I am, aren't you, handmaiden?"

Padmé, thinking better of trying to respond in words, nodded as best she could while still sliding her tongue in and out of Sabé's pussy.

"I wonder if I could make you come just by telling you what a good girl you are for me," Sabé said. "How much I enjoy how you put that beautiful body of yours entirely at my disposal." Padmé couldn't help groaning into Sabé's pussy as she felt herself becoming even more aroused, just as Sabé had predicted. Sabé knew her so well, exactly which buttons to press.

"Touch yourself," Sabé commanded, and Padmé was barely even conscious of obeying: the next moment her hand was sliding into her own underwear, desperately sliding back and forth across her own wetness. The smoothness of the gauzy fabric of the gloves made it even more satisfying.

Sabé's words alone might not have been _quite_ enough to bring Padmé to orgasm, but they had certainly turned her on immensely. Padmé carried on stroking herself urgently, even as she could tell from the way Sabé's pussy felt rougher against the tip of her tongue that Sabé was about to come as well.

But then, all of a sudden, she found herself rocking up on her knees, gasping for air. Sabé had released her hold on Padmé's head. Padmé had instinctively put out her hands to steady herself. She looked up, uncomprehending. "Have I displeased you, your majesty?"

"Not at all," Sabé said. "I just don't want things to end too soon." She stood up, her robes falling back to her ankles as she did. "Undress me, handmaiden."

"Of course, your majesty," Padmé said. She gathered the hem of the robes in her hands and rose to her feet, pulling it slowly and carefully over Sabé's head. If it had been the full royal regalia that Padmé was to wear tomorrow, the whole process would have taken far longer. As it was, the Robes of Renewal were deliberately simple garments, as handmaiden outfits went.

"Kiss me," Sabé said, now that they were both standing. Once, they had been the same height, but as they had grown Sabé had become noticeably taller than Padmé -- something that had put an end to her ability to act as decoy officially, and hence to many of the opportunities that had previously arisen for this type of roleplay.

Padmé leaned up and kissed Sabé on the lips, almost chastely, and was surprised but delighted by the vigorous way in which Sabé responded, parting Padmé's lips with her tongue and biting her bottom lip as she plundered her mouth.

When they broke apart, Sabé said, "I wanted to taste myself on you."

"Yes, your majesty," Padmé said. She continued undressing Sabé, gently and carefully removing each item of clothing until she was completely naked. Padmé lingered over each, gazing up at Sabé as she did so, trying to communicate without words how much she was yearning to be instructed to kiss the newly exposed skin. But the command never came.

Sabé sat back down on the throne. If it felt cold against her naked skin, as Padmé imagined it must, she didn't show any sign of it. "It would hardly do for the handmaiden to have more clothes than the queen," she said eventually.

Padmé took the hint and removed the rest of her garments, before sinking back to her knees. The immediate urgency of her need had subsided slightly, but she still felt as though her whole body throbbed in time with her pussy. "How may I serve you now, your majesty?"

Sabé grinned. "Always so eager. Such a good girl." Padmé felt a fresh wave of arousal wash over her. Then she saw a fresh gleam of mischief form in Sabé's eyes. "Handmaiden," she said. "Bring me the Instruments of Assent."

Padmé bowed, and tip-toed to the back of the chamber, unsure quite what Sabé had planned. She removed the Instruments from where they were stored in front of one of the large windows looking out on the now-sleeping city of Theed. With this quill and this seal, the monarch signed legislation and treaties. What exactly did Sabé want with them?

She brought them back on their silver platter, presenting them to Sabé. "Your majesty," she said.

Sabé picked up the quill and dipped it experimentally in the small pot of ink. Seeming satisfied after a moment, she returned the ink pot and said, "Put that down."

Padmé carefully lowered the platter to the ground on one side of her.

"Anything I sign with this becomes true," Sabé said. "Is that not the case, handmaiden?"

"Your word is law to all loyal citizens," Padmé said.

"Stand very still," Sabé said. Padmé was confused for a moment as to why, but the answer soon came when Sabé stood up. Padmé felt the quill pressed against her chest, just above her right breast. The quill scratched slightly, but the sensation was not unpleasant. And the closeness of Sabé was exquisite. From the looping, spiralling shapes that Padmé could feel being drawn across her skin, she could tell that Sabé was writing in Essalé, the old high language of their people, rather than Aurebesh. Sabé had always had beautiful calligraphy, far better than Padmé's own.

After a little while, the feeling of scratching intensified, and Sabé snorted with frustration. She bent down to pick up the ink pot and refilled the quill. She put the pot in Padmé's hand, saying distractedly, "Here, hold this." Padmé did so, concentrating on staying very still.

Padmé kept expecting Sabé to stop, but she continued determinedly, refilling the quill several times more, her writing extending across Padmé's entire torso, from her shoulders down across her breasts until the pattern narrowed to a point just below her belly button. Belatedly, Padmé realised what Sabé was doing: she was constructing a lectigram, a type of written poem that was possible in Essalé because of the way the placement of the glyphs relative to one another inflected their meanings. In the purest type of lectigram, the glyphs themselves also made the shape of a further glyph that expressed the overall theme, but this was astonishingly difficult to achieve. The high point of the art had been fifteen hundred years ago, but there had been occasional revivals of the form since. In the present century, though, they were obscure.

"There," Sabé said finally. "Done."

It was with some relief that Padmé put down the ink pot; her arm was just beginning to ache.

"Now go to the holoprojector and switch it on in mirror mode," Sabé said.

Clearly Sabé wanted Padmé to see her handiwork. She did as instructed, and as soon as the holoprojector sprang to life she gasped involuntarily.

Even seen in the fuzzy, rasterised blue glow of the holoprojector, Sabé's lectigram was undoubtedly a masterpiece. She had drawn the glyphs for their two names on each of Padmé's breasts, elaborate curlicues from each interpenetrating with each other on her breastbone. All around them were strings of glyphs that could be read in multiple directions. _The handmaiden serves the queen. The queen serves the handmaiden._ The whole thing was a play on the way in which Sabé impersonated Padmé in her official duties, and Padmé took on the role of Sabé in these most unofficial situations.

And the outline of the whole thing made the shape of a single glyph: _Mine_.

It was only when Padmé saw Sabé appear in the hologram in front of her that she realised she had come closer, so absorbed had she been in studying the lectigram.

"Yes," Padmé said, tears pricking at her eyes. "I am yours. Forever."

"This is just for you," Sabé said, hugging Padmé from behind, but putting her hands low to avoid obscuring any of the lectigram. "No one else will ever see it. When we return to the quarters, I'll wash this off you."

"I'll still be yours," Padmé said.

"Yes," Sabé said. "You'll be my queen." She put a finger on Padmé's body and traced a path through the interlocking glyphs that Padmé hadn't spotted yet, spiralling out from the breast that said "Padmé" and taking in the "queen" and "forever" glyphs. In the hologram, it read: "the most noble queen of all time". Sabé asked, "Do you admit now, that it's true?"

Padmé didn't answer. She remembered something Sabé had once told her: that the glyph for "noble", when inverted, meant something quite different.

For the first time she looked down at her own skin instead of at the version in the hologram. Going down in the opposite direction, the same glyph now formed part of the phrase: "the sluttiest handmaiden".

"I admit that this one's true," Padmé said, putting her hand on Sabé's own to move her finger across it. "Your majesty," she added for good measure.

For just a moment, Sabé seemed a little surprised that Padmé still wanted to play, but she quickly got back into role. The hand that had been resting on Padmé gently now gripped her hip, as Sabé traced through the pattern to its termination just above Padmé's pussy.

Padmé's breaths were coming shallowly, now, but Sabé stopped still for some time. Then she whispered in her ear, "You are mine."

"Yes, your majesty," Padmé said. "Your slutty handmaiden," she ventured.

"I'm going to show you just how much you are mine," Sabé said. "How easily I can make you come."

"If that is what pleases you, your majesty."

"And I want you to watch." She lifted her hand from Padmé's hip and put it under her chin, pushing her head up gently until Padmé was looking her holographic self right in the eye. "Don't move."

"I'll do my best, your majesty."

Sabé started by kissing Padmé's neck gently as her hand finally slid downwards to her clit. With her other hand, Sabé grabbed hold of Padmé's breast, as she had when Padmé had first knelt for her. But now, the breast said "Padmé" on it and seeing Sabé's grabbing of it in the hologram was a synecdoche for everything else that was happening in a way that only made the experience all the more intense. Padmé felt Sabé's fingers get faster and faster, rubbing up and down her pussy lips as well as her clit. Eventually, one of them slipped inside her on a particularly vigorous stroke. Padmé groaned and Sabé responded by thrusting two fingers fully inside her, beginning to pump them back and forth at the same time as digging into her mound with the heel of her hand. Padmé watched her own eyes grow wider in the holographic mirror. She was being fucked while staring at herself being fucked and her body said that she was Sabé's, just as much in how it reacted to her touch as through what was written on it in increasingly smudged ink.

"Please may I come, your majesty?" Padmé managed to say between groans.

"Yes," Sabé said. "Come for me, my very, very good girl. My excellent slutty handmaiden. Come for me and show me that you're _mine_."

It was the words that finally sent Padmé over the edge, and she came hard, clamping down on Sabé's fingers as waves of pleasure radiated out from her pussy through her body. She began to tremble slightly, and Sabé stood upright, letting Padmé rest against her.

"Thank you, your majesty" Padmé said as she nestled into her arms.

"Padmé," Sabé said. "You don't have to--"

Padmé was tempted by the idea of just basking in the aftermath of her orgasm. But that would hardly be fair on Sabé. "It would hardly do for the handmaiden to have more orgasms than the queen," she said.

"Well, in that case," Sabé said, "I believe you have some unfinished business to attend to. Follow me, handmaiden."

Padmé attended her queen back to the throne, the hologram flickering into nothingness once they left the field within which it could detect them. This time, Sabé perched on the very edge of the throne, allowing her to spread her legs wide apart. The lewdness of it was almost intoxicating to Padmé, who felt herself slipping further back into role again.

"Kneel, handmaiden," Sabé said, and Padmé did so wordlessly. "Now lick me, and don't stop until I come."

Padmé began more moderately this time, licking Sabé's pussy lips in long, slow strokes. Then she switched to her clit, using the tip of her tongue to draw lazy spirals around it. She wished she were confident enough in her Essalé to try to draw out a glyph for Sabé to read with her sensitive nerve endings, but she was as likely to come up with "piazza" as "beloved".

Padmé was still trying to work out if she could manage "forever" when Sabé suddenly wrapped her legs around her head, ankles crossing on her back and pulling her in. Suddenly, her tongue was inside Sabé's pussy. "Remember what I told you, handmaiden," Sabé said. "Lick me, and don't stop until I come." To avoid her tongue slipping back out again, Padmé put her hands on Sabé's ass, tilting it upwards just the right amount to allow her to maintain contact.

Padmé had thought that, having already come herself, she would be able to focus entirely on Sabé's pleasure, but this new situation brought with it a completely fresh spurt of arousal. She wanted desperately to be commanded to touch herself again, and the memory of how close they had both come earlier, before Sabé had brought them back from the brink, turned her on all the more. Her licking and thrusting her tongue into Sabé's pussy became increasingly desperate and uncontrolled, but this seemed to be having exactly the right effect, and before too long, Sabé was coming hard all over Padmé's tongue, the sweet taste of her orgasm quite different to what had gone before.

"Don't stop!" Sabé said. "I'm going to come again."

Padmé kept going. She had lost all awareness of time and space, there was just Sabé, Sabé's legs wrapped around her, Sabé's voice screaming out about how good she was at making her come, Sabé's pussy convulsing time and again as she shuddered her way through orgasm after orgasm.

Eventually, however, it stopped. The pressure on the sides of her head and her back was released, and Sabé's yells subsided into ragged breathing. Sabé slumped back on the throne, clearly satiated.

"We had better go back," Sabé said eventually. "I need to get you into a bath. Time for me to be the handmaiden again." Padmé's disappointment clearly showed on her face, because Sabé looked at her with astonishment and said, "Are you really that turned on again already?"

Padmé nodded.

"Well, don't worry," Sabé said. "I've just had an excellent demonstration of how a handmaiden should take care of the needs of her queen."


End file.
